


The Companion's Prologue

by EbonyPhotographs



Series: Portraits [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Artist AU, Crime & Suspense, Drama, M/M, Model & Photographer AU, Multiple ships, Sounds crazy but maybe it will be worth it, This is planned to become my horror fic, Will become explicit & violent with time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:47:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21828424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonyPhotographs/pseuds/EbonyPhotographs
Summary: Nothing. The police had nothing.“This wasn’t your fault, Noctis…”This was the last push needed to throw Ignis off the edge. If they couldn’t find him, and the investigators failed to surface absolutely anything about Prompto, there would be no holding back. No regrets. Anything to save Noctis from what he knew was a certain kidnapping.“…it was mine.”
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: Portraits [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572910
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The Companion's Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Just a tiny piece for now to get me started (and remind me this is here and that I wanna work on it). I wanted to take on a dangerous piece so this shall stand as an opener for my shenanigans to come.

Stillness fell over the hollow space of the small Caelum studio. The makeshift apartment was once a place for two. Though cramped and un-private at times – which jeopardized their ability to get along here and there – these rented rooms were supposed to be their fresh start into new city life together. It had even become somewhere Ignis came to call home. But not anymore. Nowhere was home without Noctis.

The coffee table sat in its usual spot atop the ovular rug, sloppily dirtied by his friend’s cigarettes, several unfinished butts lingering at the brim of an uncleaned ashtray. The stale scent in the air was proof of his partner’s absence. Lingering aromas of Noct’s cologne had nearly vanished just as he did: without a trace. There were no open bottles of wine about the flat. The very last cup Ignis ever saw him touch was still sitting on the dinner table beside his favorite recliner.

Gas and water had already been shut off. Those essentials _had_ been for a few days. Electricity was short to follow. That didn’t matter to the gloomy man in glasses very much considering his intentions for the future of their self-established modeling company. Ignis didn’t plan on staying behind for long.

The only sound left to focus on in the wake of accepting defeat was the voice of a reporter talking over his cell. The woman covered a list of several topics which recently developed to plague this forsaken tangle of skyscrapers offering nothing but false promise to helpless dreamers. Ignis might have never noticed how truly ugly things were in the world until tragedy struck him personally. He’d always known of the hidden horrors and did his best to try warning Noctis of them first before protecting himself. As his contract advisor, it was his ‘job’. As Noct’s confidant, the right thing to do.

And yet the dangers still found his beloved companion despite every speech and every warning. His precautions lead to naught. ‘A young modelling artist up and snatched away’ was all the authorities could come up with. One single, typical, and inconsiderate mention to a life stolen. That was all they could manage. After every attempt Ignis made to tell them he knew more, that there was nothing innocent about the photographer… The state sheriff who sympathized probably believed him for a moment, but this was the end result.

Nothing. The police had nothing.

“This wasn’t your fault, Noctis…”

This was the last push needed to throw Ignis off the edge. If they couldn’t find him, and the investigators failed to surface absolutely anything about Prompto, there would be no holding back. No regrets. Anything to save Noctis from what he knew was a certain kidnapping.

“…it was mine.”

Prompto. Thinking that name alone filled him with sparks of fury. Ever since the last three weeks he’d spent searching for answers, the dead ends and blank clues pointed him right back in the same direction: **_You_** _._ Ignis gawked angrily at his phone screen. Here the hours ticked past and yet the news proclaimed Noctis just another unsolvable case. The city triumphed yet again in the eyes of those living within it that people simply disappeared without reason or that ambitious fresh faces were eaten alive in the void of madness cursing those unfortunate enough to pursue showing their true colours in the wrong places.

There should have never been a wrong place or wrong time for Noctis. His passion was limitless. He deserved the world, but not this side of it.

The people declared their longing to know what happened. The beloved blue-eyed, dark haired charmer was such a loss to both the industries and the starving creators seeking a blank canvas, just as these curious two sought opportunity. There were conspiracies everywhere. Utterly unavoidable things. Ignis was sick of them. The thing he wanted now was revenge.

Ignis stood. The pages of their sign-in folder would not lead him to where the bastard lived. Although, there may have been hope in their special place. He would find it wherever it was. And when he did…

The man halted in his blind march toward the door, snapped into a state of disarray. Humiliated had fooled him for the last time. Suddenly in his rage, he paused to stare against the last glimpse of a flower left behind just before Noctis went missing. No, when _he_ kept Noct to himself as he’d planned all along. The radiant floral insult took the ray of daylight bleeding through the blinds like a bulb shinning on a painter’s last piece. It barely seemed wilted. Odd, after all this time. Ignis turned to it and plucked the stem into hand, turning the petals over with careful two fingertips. Gawking. Marveling.

He thought of what to do. The longer he and that blossom observed each other, the tighter his chest clenched. Noctis was in love with his photographer. That much came true though he loathed to admit it. Ignis had choices now to pick from… Had Noctis any options when this nightmare began? Was he experiencing any pain in this moment?

He couldn’t second guess it. There wasn’t enough time to. Only one place around here sprouted those buds. Ignis substituted the bloom for his loaded pistol and a flashlight. He would fix this himself.

“Hold on, Noctis. I will bring you back. Nothing will stop me.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you were to take a painful love triangle between Noctis, Ignis and Prompto, then throw in the elements of a psychological suspense, what do you think we'd get?


End file.
